


All My Exes

by GreyMichaela



Series: Never Ever [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Cas is still feeling his way, Cuddling, Hand Jobs, I'm probably working through some deep-seated emotional issues, Jealousy, M/M, Not a lot I swear, Oh look I'm being horrible to my darlings again, Poor Moose is going to be scarred for life, Sam needs to get laid, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-17 15:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1393204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyMichaela/pseuds/GreyMichaela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam, Dean and Castiel are hunting together.  What looks like a vampire, hunts like a vampire and eats like a vampire...but isn't a vampire?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [disheveledangelinatrenchcoat (bigblackhorse4)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigblackhorse4/gifts).



> Well, this is a multi-chapter work that I'm going to post as I write, so we'll see how it goes. If you're unfamiliar with my stuff, it'll make more sense if you start with Never Ever but it's not completely essential. I hope you enjoy! For disheveledangelinatrenchcoat, who you should all be following on Tumblr (http://disheveledangelinatrenchcoat.tumblr.com).

Dean woke up to a heavy arm pressing him into the mattress.  Castiel didn’t need sleep as much as a human did, but he seemed to enjoy “switching off” and spending the night as close to Dean as possible.

The hunter’s lips quirked as he looked down at the thatch of dark hair against his left shoulder.  He’d never have taken Cas for a cuddler; if he’d been asked, he’d have laughed at the very idea. But the angel seemed almost desperate for contact, taking every opportunity to touch Dean as much as he could. Maybe it was left over from the relief Dean had been able to give him while he was without his wings, or maybe Cas was simply starved for affection.

Regardless, Dean wasn’t about to complain, especially since it had the very handy bonus of grossing his little brother out.  He rubbed Cas’s back and the angel stretched and murmured, nose brushing the handprint on Dean’s naked shoulder. 

Dean pulled him closer, watching as Cas’s eyes opened and awareness filled them.

“Good morning, Dean,” he said.  The whiskey soaked gravel of his voice made the hunter shiver.

“Sleep well?” he said.

The angel smiled and sat up, rubbing his face.  “It’s not sleep so much as it is turning off my mind,” he pointed out.

Dean rolled his eyes.  “Whatever. You still fucking snore.”

Castiel’s eyes widened in outrage.  “I do not!”

“Do too.”

Dean only had time for a (very manly) squawk before the angel had pounced, straddling him and pinning his hands to the bed. 

“I. Do. Not. _Snore,_ ” Castiel said through his teeth.

Dean grinned up at him and wriggled experimentally, gratified when the angel gasped.

“Like a damn steam engine,” Dean said, but was cut off from saying anything else by Cas’s hot mouth capturing his, tongue plundering and invading, teeth nipping. Dean arched up into the kiss, not bothering to stop the moan that slipped out.  He braced his feet on the bed and flipped them both, enjoying the angel’s gasp as he rolled them over. 

Dean sat up and smirked down at his lover, flushed and squirming beneath him. His expression gentled, approaching something like awe.  “God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispered.  He leaned down and kissed the angel with reverence, worshiping his mouth with lips and tongue.

Cas sighed against him, straining up to keep them connected from head to toe. The movement rubbed their cocks together and Dean broke the kiss to gasp, head falling back. 

Which was when Sam chose to walk into the room. 

Several things happened at once.

Dean yelped and hurled himself off Cas, diving for the covers.  Sam yelped too, reeling back with his hand over his eyes. And Cas blinked, startled, sitting up but making no attempt to hide his nudity.  Dean yanked the sheet up over both of them and glared at his little brother, still hiding his face.

“What the _fuck_ , Sammy, when are you going to learn to knock?” he snarled.

“Believe me,” Sam said, “I’m asking myself that very question.  I’m very, very sorry.  You have _no idea_ how sorry I am. It, I…um…oh God, help.” He shuffled backward, groping for the door handle with the hand not still covering his eyes.

Dean sighed. “Did you have a reason for walking in here in the first place?”

“Nothing that can’t, uh…wait,” Sam said.  He’d found the door and he yanked it open, slithering through it at an impressive rate of speed.

Dean flopped onto his back, arm over his face, and groaned.  "Kill me now," he begged.

Castiel looked down at him, smiling a little. “Your brother isn’t as uncomfortable with us being together as he pretends to be,” he said.

Dean shifted his elbow, glancing up suspiciously.  “What’s that supposed to mean?  Does he actually _like_ walking in on us? Because if so…ew.”

Cas shook his head.  “No, he’s genuinely horrified by seeing us naked.  But he smiles at you when you’re not looking.  Seeing you happy makes him happy.”

“Oh.” Dean thought about that. “Well, I still think he needs to learn his lesson about not warning us before busting in here. I think some PDAs are in order.”

Cas tilted his head, a quizzical look on his face.

“Public displays of affection,” Dean clarified, tugging the angel down against him. “We’re going to be the lovey-doviest couple in the _world,_ until he’s begging for us to stop.  Maybe then he'll start to get it through his thick head that there are things going on that he doesn't want to see.”  He snickered and kissed Castiel, delving between his lips, stroking and teasing until the angel sighed and melted into him, arms sliding around his chest.

“Do we have time for this ?” Cas asked between kisses.

“Who cares?” Dean said, and slipped his hand between their bodies, gripping Cas’s cock. The angel’s back arched and he shuddered, eyes closing against their will and hips thrusting.  “That’s it, baby,” Dean whispered, “Let me see you.”

Sweat began to shine on Castiel’s skin and he bit his lip, brow furrowing. Dean’s hand kept going, stroking the angel with smooth, sure movements, loving the little whimpers that were escaping Cas’s lips. 

It wasn’t long before Dean felt him tensing, hips beginning to stutter and lose their rhythm.  Dean hummed encouragingly and Cas groaned deep in his chest, spending himself on his lover’s stomach.

Dean gentled him through it, rubbing his thumb through the slick wetness and back up and over the head of Cas’s cock, smiling at the shudders that wracked the angel’s frame.  “So beautiful,” he murmured.

Cas dropped his forehead against Dean’s shoulder, sighing.  “I am not sure I will never get used to that,” he said.

“Well, you do have a millennia or two of virginity to make up for,” Dean said, grinning.

Cas’s laugh was muffled against Dean’s skin.  He shuffled down on the bed, smiling up at his lover with wicked intent.

“Oh yes please,” Dean said, and then a wet mouth was on his cock and rational thought fled his brain.

 

***

 

Sam took one look at them when they slid into the diner’s booth opposite him and groaned, dropping his head into his hands.  Dean’s hair stood on end and Cas couldn’t stop the dopey, just-got-laid smile that kept crawling across his face.

“God,” Sam moaned, “I’m truly, truly sorry for whatever it is that you’re punishing me for. Please rescue me from this hell, _please._ ”

Dean cackled, pouring coffee.  “I refuse to apologize for having a healthy sex life,” he said.  “And hey, if I’d known you wanted to _watch,_ I’m sure we could’ve arranged something.”

Sam’s head shot up and he glared at his brother, but then his shoulders slumped. “I…guess I deserved that,” he admitted.

“Scarred for life, Sammy?” Dean asked happily.  This diner had excellent coffee and he could smell bacon frying. It was shaping up to be a good day.

“Even more than I already was,” Sam agreed, fighting the grin that tugged at his mouth.

Dean nudged Cas with an elbow.  “Hungry?” he asked.

Cas shook his head.  “But I will enjoy watching you eat.”

“Dean, if you make a joke about sausage, I swear to God I will vomit all over you,” Sam warned.

Dean scowled, slumping back on the bench.  “Killjoy.”

A skinny, acne-riddled teenager slouched up to the table.  “What can I getcha?” he mumbled.

“Pancakes, bacon, and an extra side of…sausage,” Dean said, quirking a brow at Sam, who whimpered.  “He’ll have dry toast and a wheatgrass smoothie,” he continued to the waiter.

Sam glared. “ _French_ toast and orange juice,” he snapped.

“And you, sir?” the young man said, turning to Castiel.

“Nothing for him,” Dean said.

The teenager shrugged and shuffled off, hitching up his pants.

“I think we should tip him enough that he can buy a belt,” Dean muttered.

“Sam, why _did_ you walk in on us earlier?” Castiel asked.

Sam blinked.  “Oh…right. I think I found us a case.”

Dean perked up, pouring himself more coffee. 

“Couple of farmers down south have reported finding their livestock slaughtered in the past few weeks.”

“Livestock? You want us to check out a _livestock_ problem?” Dean asked.

Sam glared at him.  “Shut up and let me finish. As I was _trying_ to say, it started small, with chickens.  Then someone lost a dog and another lost a couple of calves.  The next week the chicken farmer found a yearling colt dead in its field.  All of them were exsanguinated.  And it kept going, until people in a hundred mile radius were reporting the loss of full grown cows.”

“Escalating,” Cas said.

Sam nodded. “Then last week a man disappeared. He was found in a field, drained of all blood just like the animals.”

“How many people?” Dean asked, eyes intent.

“Three so far,” Sam said.  “And no signs of slowing down.  At first the bodies were showing up once a week, but now it’s almost every day.”

“So…vampire nest?” Dean said.

Sam lifted a shoulder.  “That’s the thing; I’m not sure.  I need to examine the bodies, but from what I can see of the photographs in the morgue reports, the wounds don’t look like vampire bites.  They’re neater, not as jagged and torn.  Something feels…off.  I think it's worth checking out.”

Their server showed up just then, slinging their food onto the table with careless ease.  Dean chortled and dug in as Cas watched him, a smile playing on his lips.

“So,” Dean said, mouth full, “Where are we going?”

“Texas.”

Dean blinked. “Aw crap.”


	2. Chapter 2

 

“So what’s wrong with Texas, anyway?” Cas asked once they were on the road.

“He had a bad breakup there,” Sam said when Dean didn’t answer, his eyes fixed on the road.

Cas glanced at the back of Dean’s head but Dean stayed silent.   “How bad?” he asked.

Sam grinned. “ _Bad._ Dean thought he’d found the One. She was smart, funny, cute as a button, seemed pretty level-headed; she was even okay with the whole hunter thing. Dean was talking about maybe sticking around, putting down roots, or even taking her with us on the road.  She was small but very fast and strong and she'd trained in jiu-jitsu for years.   _And_ she was a crack shot.  Complete package, right?  Until he found out she’d been cheating on him the whole time with her ex-boyfriend, and he broke up with her.  Which is when it turned out sweet little Lindsey was a tiny bit…unstable.”

“She went full on Fatal Attraction on me,” Dean growled. 

“I don’t understand what that means,” Cas said.

Sam twisted in his seat so he could see Cas in the back of the Impala. “She started stalking him, leaving him flowers, letters, phone calls.”

“How long had you known her?”

“Six weeks,” Sam said when Dean was silent. 

“I am not well versed in relationships,” Cas said, “But that seems very…fast.”

Dean snorted. “You can say that again.”

“Why would I need to?” Cas asked.

That made Dean turn his head enough to catch the angel’s eye in the rearview mirror and a flash of amusement warmed his face.  Cas smiled back.  He was literal-minded, certainly, but he also knew when his hunter needed to be put at ease and he wasn’t above exploiting his known inabilities to understand human expressions to help Dean relax.

Sure enough, Dean’s shoulders loosened a little and he stopped gripping the wheel quite so tightly.

Sam had watched the silent exchange without speaking.  He dropped Cas the shadow of a wink and turned forward again.

“So what happened to her?” Cas said.

“We tied up the hunt and got the hell out of town,” Sam said. 

“And may I put it on record that I am _not_ happy we’re heading back to _her_ town?” Dean growled.  “There’s a reason we don’t hunt in the same place twice.”

“I’m right there with you,” Sam said, “But at this point we don’t have an option. There’s no one else around that can take it.  We’ll keep our heads down, stay low and avoid making waves.”

“Dean, if it’s this big of a problem, perhaps Sam and I should take the hunt alone and you can stay out of it,” Cas offered.

“No. No way,” Dean said. “You’re not doing this without me. It was no big deal, really. I just don’t like thinking about her. ‘Specially since I traded up.” His eyes met Cas’s in the mirror again and Sam made gagging noises, making Dean laugh.

Cas turned his back to the door, stretching his legs along the seat. This put him in position to rest his left arm on Dean’s seatback, trailing his fingers against the nape of the hunter’s neck.

Dean shivered and leaned into his touch just a fraction as Sam looked out the window, pretending not to see.  A companionable silence fell as the Impala ate up the miles.

 

It was dark when they got into Laredo.  The city was wind-scoured and stark, squat buildings hulking in the weak illumination from too few streetlights.  Dean muttered under his breath as they looked for a motel, choosing one on the outskirts of town. 

Castiel and Dean waited while Sam rented the rooms, saying nothing. Cas’s hand was still on the back of Dean’s neck, warm and undemanding. 

“Cas,” the hunter said, but didn’t continue.

The angel rubbed Dean’s nape with a thumb but stayed silent.   Sam returned then, holding two keys, and handed one to his brother.

Cas waited until they’d said goodnight to Sam and Dean had closed the door before he acted. He caught Dean’s elbow and swung him around, pushing him back against the wall with a hard thump. The air left Dean’s lungs with a grunt but Cas was already there, pressing their bodies together and nipping a line up Dean’s throat.  The hunter groaned, tilting his head back to give Castiel better access, hands gripping the angel’s hips and tugging him closer.

“Is this…you being…jealous, Cas?” Dean panted.

Cas shook his head, unbuttoning Dean’s shirt without taking his mouth away from the taller man’s jaw.  “Angels do not get jealous,” he finally pulled away enough to say.  “I am merely…reassuring you.”

Dean gasped as Cas’s lips closed over a pulse point in his neck. “Reassuring me…ah…of, uh…what?”

Castiel let go of the hunter and took a step back and Dean made a needy sound in the back of his throat.  The angel stripped his clothes off in swift, economical movements until he stood naked in front of his lover.

“Reassuring you that I am yours, forever,” he said, his eyes intent on Dean’s.

Dean swallowed hard, throat working.  Then he stepped forward and kissed him sweet and slow, cupping Castiel’s face in his hands.  They were both panting for air when Dean finally lifted his head.

“Cas,” he whispered, eyes half-lidded.

Castiel made a questioning noise, pressing closer.  Dean met his eyes and his lips quirked up. 

“No chick flick moments.”  And then they were kissing again, Dean swallowing Cas’s surprised laugh and crowding him backward toward the bed.  Castiel landed on his back and bounced a little, grinning up at his lover.

Dean was standing over him, pushing his jeans down and kicking off his boots, eyes dark with purpose.  His rigid cock swayed as he crawled onto the mattress, slotting their bodies together before capturing Cas’s mouth again.

The angel gave it willingly, offering himself up body and soul.  He clutched at Dean’s broad shoulders, pulling him down until they were chest to chest and bracing his feet against the bed so he could begin to thrust his hips.

Dean groaned and kissed him deeper, teeth and tongue and lips desperate and hungry. Hungry for _Cas._   The knowledge made the angel a little lightheaded even as he gave as good as he got.

Dean finally broke away, chest heaving.  His eyes were slightly unfocused.  “Need…I need…”

“It’s in the bag,” Cas said, and Dean fairly hurled himself off the bed to scrabble through his belongings.  He came up with the lube clutched triumphantly in his fist and was back on the bed in seconds.

“Need to fuck you, Cas,” he whispered.  “Please may I fuck you?”

Cas nodded, desperate and incoherent.  Dean wasted no time slicking up his hand and pushing his first finger in. Cas writhed, lost in the ecstasy of his walls being stretched.  Dean slid the next finger in alongside the first, crooking the knuckles and grazing his prostate. Cas arched off the bed with a desperate shout, grabbing at Dean’s shoulders as the electric bolt of pleasure ripped through him.

It wasn’t long at all before he was tugging on the hunter, begging.

“Please, please Dean, I need you now.”

Dean pressed his face against Cas’s quivering thigh, struggling to catch his breath. “I’ve barely prepped you, love. I don’t want to hurt you.”

One of the things Cas had been delighted to learn about his lover was Dean’s propensity for endearments in bed.  With their clothes on, he rarely slipped, but in their moments of greatest intimacy he lowered his guard.  It caused a tiny clutch around his heart every time Dean called him by a pet name.

He yanked harder on Dean’s arm, impatient.  “ _Now,_ ” he snarled.

Dean laughed and pulled his fingers out, making Cas wince at the loss. Settling between the angel’s knees, he leaned forward for a kiss and then tilted Cas’s hips and slid home in one sweet, achingly slow thrust.

Castiel gasped, locking his heels at the base of Dean’s hips and pulling the hunter closer. 

Dean buried his face in Cas’s neck, steadied himself, then began to thrust, setting a steady rhythm that had them both moaning within moments. Cas reached between them and began to stroke himself, lost in sensation.  Dean murmured encouragement into his skin, licking the sweat off and sucking tiny bruises in their wake. 

Castiel’s other hand roamed, touching everywhere on his lover’s body that he could reach. He tangled his fingers in the hunter’s hair, pulling his head up and claiming his mouth, then released him and continued his exploration.  He found a nipple and pinched it, earning a sharp gasp and a curse from Dean, who lost his pace for a minute but regained it quickly, thrusting even harder into Castiel’s center.

Cas let go, eyes rolling back and breath stuttering.  Dean kissed him roughly, bruising his lips with the force of it, and that was all the angel needed.  He stiffened, pleasure cracking through his nerves like a silent gunshot, his come painting his skin with white ribbons. 

He knew Dean loved to watch him come, loved to see him so undone, and sure enough, the hunter followed right after, spending himself with a shout deep inside him, shuddering desperately before collapsing in a blissed out sprawl.

Cas kissed his jaw, enjoying the light stubble that scraped against his lips, while Dean tried to catch his breath.  Finally he pulled away enough to slide out on a rush of lube and come, grimacing at the sticky feel.  Cas flicked a finger, all he could move, and Dean sighed in relief at being clean as he relaxed against his lover again.

“You’re mine,” Castiel whispered.  “Our souls are knit together.  We are one.”

Dean was silent, boneless and exhausted, but his lips curved in a smile against Castiel’s neck.

They drifted off to sleep that way, wrapped in each other’s arms.

 

The morgue was the first place they went the next morning, Dean and Sam uncomfortable in their suits.

“I’m just saying, Sam, if you’d cut your goddamned hair you might actually _look_ like a government agent instead of some punk playing dress up!” Dean hissed as they pushed open the double doors.

Sam pretended not to hear him.  It was an argument he’d heard far too often and if he was honest with himself, it was a big part of why he _hadn’t_ cut his hair yet; watching Dean get worked up over it was the highlight of his day.  

He directed a smile at the slim brunette at the receptionist’s desk. “Agents Lee, Garcia and Plant, FBI. I understand you’ve had a few bodies brought in recently under suspicious circumstances and we need to examine them.”

The girl’s eyes widened and she fumbled through the papers on her desk. Sam leaned against the counter and watched her, a patient smile on his face.  He heard Dean snort behind him and Castiel ask a question in a low voice, but he missed Dean’s answer.

Finally the girl found and pressed the button on the intercom.  “FBI agents here to see you, sir.  Shall I send them back?” 

“I’m in the middle of breakfast, dammit!” a voice snapped, and the receptionist winced.

“He’s…a little grouchy before his coffee kicks in,” she said to the three men, smiling nervously.

Sam’s own smile widened.  “You should see my partner when he’s uncaffeinated.  It’s a terrifying sight, believe me.”

“Hey!” Dean objected, but the girl giggled and pressed the button that unlocked the morgue doors.

“Thank you,” Sam said, and winked at her as they went past. 

“You are a shameless flirt,” Dean said once they were out of earshot.

“Like you have any room to talk!” Sam retorted.

Dean looked noble and wounded.  “I’ll have you know I put my flirting days behind me when Cas and I got together.”

Sam burst out laughing.  “Dude, you’d flirt with a corpse if you thought you could get her number!”

“I don’t mind if you flirt with women, Dean,” Cas interjected, and Dean whirled to stare at him.  Cas shrugged. “It is a fundamental part of your makeup; your need to make others feel good about themselves. I understand and I will not be jealous if you smile at someone else.”

Dean kept staring.  “Cas…” he finally said, “You are _way_ too well-adjusted to be with me.  You’re gonna have to work on some emotional dysfunction if you want to stick around.”

Cas tilted his head and glanced at Sam, who was trying to contain his laughter and failing miserably ahead of them.   “Oh,” he said, “You’re joking.”

Dean winked at him and took a step into his space.  “Kind of a bad habit of mine.  Better get used to it.”  Then he kissed him, a swift brush of lips, before hurrying after his brother.

Sam groaned. “Dude, do you really have to make with the kissy-faces around me?  I’m emotionally tender and I scar easily.”

“Until you learn to stop walking in on us getting busy, then yeah, I kinda _do_ have to ‘make with the kissy-faces’ and _awesome_ job on using your big boy words there, bro,” Dean retorted.

They were still bickering when they rounded the corner and walked into the morgue itself. It was a large room, with small windows and slanted concrete floors with drains set in them, painted drab institutional blue.  Stainless steel square doors covered most of two walls.

Dean grimaced, glancing around the room and clocking the exits and points of defense. “Cheerful,” he muttered.

A short, round man emerged from an office door against a back wall, wiping his mouth. “Morning, Agents, name’s McDonald, what can I do for you?”

“We understand you have several bodies of people that died under suspicious circumstances and we’d like to take a look at them,” Sam said, shaking the man’s hand.

“Wasn’t aware it was a big enough deal for the feebs to get involved,” McDonald said, but he gestured toward the first row of doors. 

He wheeled each body out in turn and took the polite hint to be left alone with surprising grace.  “I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

Alone, Sam and Dean set to work while Castiel wandered the room, inspecting everything.

“Bite marks are pretty neat,” Dean mused.  “Body’s drained but probably took awhile, and some impressive suction strength.” He straightened, lifting a brow at Cas, who was peeking in one of the body drawers.  “Having fun there?”

“This young woman died of poison that was slipped into her martini,” Castiel said.

Dean’s eyes widened and he moved to the angel’s side.  “What?  How do you know?”

“I can smell them on her,” Cas said.  “The martini was extra dry and the poison has a bitter, lingering aftertaste.”

“She was murdered,” Dean mused.

“It’s not exactly earthshattering news,” Sam pointed out.  “Despite our professions, people have been killing each other for a really long time.”

“I know,” Dean snapped, looking down at the slender body on the slab, her eyes closed and soft blonde hair spread out under her head.  “It just…sucks.”

Cas touched his shoulder and Dean looked up and grimaced.  “Sorry,” he said, and pushed the drawer shut.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Castiel said.  “Your caring is one of my favorite things about you.”

Sam groaned loudly and Dean rolled his eyes and rejoined him at the table. “Shove it, bitch, and get the next body out.”

By the time they left, they weren’t much farther ahead, but Dean was at least agreeing that it was weird and bore further looking into.

“We need to talk to the victims’ families,” Sam said as they drove away. “Do you want to split up or stick together?”

“Be faster if we split up,” Dean said.  He took the address Sam handed him and he and Cas stepped out of the car, squinting in the sun. 

“Back in an hour,” Sam said, and put the Impala in gear.

“Are we still agents?” Cas inquired as they headed up the carefully kept front steps.

Dean nodded. “Just let me do the talking.” He flashed the angel a grin. “Subterfuge isn’t exactly your specialty just yet.”

 

An hour and quite a few hysterical tears from the victim’s sister later, they were back on the sidewalk, dazed.

“Are they always so…loud?” Castiel asked.

Dean shook his head, rubbing his ear.  “Thank God, no, or I’d be permanently deaf by now.”

Sam pulled up and they climbed in, shutting the doors with a grateful sigh.

“Anything?” the taller man asked.

Dean slumped against the seat.  “Bette Davis in there has a future career in drama, should she choose to pursue it, but otherwise not a lot.  Her brother liked to jog, and he preferred to do it at night when there weren’t many people around. Nobody hated him, he was the friendliest person you’d ever want to meet, no enemies and how I could even _suggest_ such a thing is horrifying, just horrifying!”

Sam snorted in sympathy, pulling away from the curb.  “I didn’t have any better luck, really.  So far all we have is that they were outside at night and there were no witnesses to the deaths.”

“What’s next?” Cas asked.

“Go look at the sites of the murders,” Sam said.  “Location can sometimes tell us more than people.”

Dean glanced back at Cas and his eyes crinkled with amusement.  “Being a hunter means a whole lotta boring in between brief bouts of way too much excitement,” he said.

Cas smiled at him.  “I don’t mind. I am curious to know what this creature is, and I’m with you.  That’s enough for me.”

Sam made vomiting noises and Dean punched him in the shoulder without looking away from the angel, ignoring the lanky man’s muffled yelp of pain.  Cas didn’t bother to try hiding the laughter that bubbled up.

“So where’s our first stop?” Dean asked his brother.

“Outside of town.  First victim lived on a ranch and went out to check on a mare in foal during the night. Wife found him the next morning.”

Dean leaned back against the seat and Castiel found himself leaning forward enough that he could slide his fingers over the nape of the hunter’s neck and begin to rub in slow, gentle circles.  Dean sighed and relaxed into his hand, moaning happily. 

Sam shifted in his seat, keeping his eyes fixed resolutely forward as Dean got a little louder when Cas’s fingers found a particularly stubborn knot of muscle and loosened it.

Finally Sam couldn’t take it any longer.  “Dammit, Cas, get your hands off my brother before I start feeling like I’m in the middle of a bad porno!”

Cas jerked his hand away and sat back, startled and embarrassed. “My apologies, Sam,” he said, a flush creeping up his neck. 

Dean straightened, glaring at his brother.  “Ignore him, Cas,” he said without looking at him.  “He just needs to get laid.  Like, yesterday.”

Sam scowled and stomped on the accelerator.

“And for your information,” Dean muttered, crossing his arms, “It would have been a very _good_ porno.”


	3. Chapter 3

 The first victim’s ranch wasn’t far outside the city, and they pulled up in front of a sprawling house sooner than Cas had expected.  Dean stepped out and stretched, catching Castiel’s wrist as he climbed out of the backseat and tugging him close.

“Ignore Sam,” the hunter said.  “He’s pissy because he hasn’t seen action in months, and don’t you dare stop touching me just because he complains about it.”

“I don’t wish to upset him,” Cas said, casting a glance in the taller man’s direction.

“It’ll upset _me_ if you stop,” Dean said fiercely, and that brought Castiel’s eyes back to his face.  Dean smiled at him, then leaned in and dropped a kiss against the corner of the angel’s mouth.

Sam cleared his throat and Dean sighed and stepped back, regret in his green eyes. “Guess we should go look at this stupid crime scene,” he said.

“I already talked to the widow; she’s expecting us and she told me where the attack occurred, so we can go straight there,” Sam said, and led the way across the hard-packed earth away from the house and towards the squat barns and outbuildings scattered in the distance. 

 

Within twenty minutes, Castiel was thoroughly bored.  There seemed to be very little to see on the ground, but that didn’t stop Sam and Dean from going over every scrape and indentation in the earth, consulting in low tones. 

The angel wandered towards the herd of horses grazing in the field. He liked horses; their gentle temperaments and graceful natures appealed to him.  A big brown gelding lifted his head and ambled towards him, perhaps hoping for a treat.  Castiel held out a hand, letting the horse sniff it thoroughly, before laying his palm on the gelding’s neck.

Closing his eyes, he let himself sink into a peaceful state, reaching for the horse’s mind. Horses weren’t usually terribly bright, but they were the closest things they had to actual witnesses, and maybe this one remembered something.

He sent a tendril of a question toward the gelding and sidestepped the agitated hoof stomp that produced.  The angel withdrew a little, weaving in reassurance and calm to his touch, then tried again when the horse had relaxed.

The scene began to unfold in his mind, washed out around the edges, colorless and strangely distorted, almost like looking through a fish-eye lens. A man walked out of the house and into the pasture, speaking quietly to the horses dozing in the grass.

Castiel watched from a distance as a long, lean shape detached itself from the shadows and drifted noiselessly towards the human, who was petting a hugely pregnant mare’s nose and was oblivious to his surroundings.  An owl hooted and Cas heard a coyote wail, miles off.

The creature crept closer, slipping from one clump of grass to another, until it was only a few feet away.  It waited, powerful muscles coiled, until the man stepped away from the mare before it struck.

The night was ripped with the screams of panicked horses as the coppery smell of fresh blood filled the air, and then they were stampeding in a terrified group up the hill and away from the shadow that crouched over their owner.

A hand on the angel’s arm startled him out of the vision.

“Cas? _Cas!_ Dammit, come back!” Dean was gripping his arms, eyes tight with worry.

Cas blinked, awareness flooding back.  The brown gelding tossed his head and snorted, pulling away to trot back to his herd mates.

“Where the hell did you go?” Dean demanded.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Castiel said, calming his breathing.  “You were busy, so I thought I’d see if the horses had seen anything.”

Dean raised his eyebrow.  “You can actually do that?”

“Sometimes, although it works better with prey animals than it does predators,” Cas admitted.  “Their minds are simpler, less aggressive, and easier to touch.”

“So did you see anything?” Sam asked, coming up behind his brother.

Cas nodded. “No real details, but it appeared to be canid in shape, although much larger.  Closer to the size of a mountain lion, but definitely not feline. It was dark and I was unable to see much more than that before the horses scattered.  Did you find anything in the tracks?”

Dean shook his head.  He still looked worried, but he’d let go of Cas’s arm.  “Not much. A few paw prints, could be anything. They have dogs, and there are plenty of reports of bobcats and other big predators in the area. Not to mention the wild fucking coyotes that infest the whole damn state, seems like.”

“Looks like it’s research time,” Sam said, sighing.  “Back to the motel it is.”

They headed for the car, Dean walking close enough to Castiel that their shoulders bumped occasionally.

 

In the motel room, Sam flopped into one of the chairs, arms and legs sprawling, and Dean settled himself at the tiny table, opening his laptop.

“Are you alright, Sam?” Cas inquired.  “You seem tired.”

Sam flipped a hand.  “Fine,” he grunted. “Just didn’t sleep well last night.”

Cas glanced at Dean, who lifted a shoulder, looking confused.

A knock on the door interrupted whatever he was going to say though. Cas was closest, so he reached out and opened it over Dean’s hissed protest.

A small, blonde woman stood on the other side, hand raised to knock again. Cas examined her. She had huge blue eyes and a hopeful smile on her pretty face, and she blinked at the angel as if she wasn’t expecting him.

“May I help you?” Castiel asked.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry to bother you,” she stammered.  “I must have the wrong room.  I was looking for-”

“ _Lindsay?_ ” Dean’s voice was strangled, tight and unhappy as he rose from his chair.

A huge smile spread across the petite woman’s face.  “Dean!  It _is_ you!  I can’t believe this!”  She stepped across the threshold and Cas moved without thinking, putting himself between her and Dean. She blinked up at him, confused.

“It’s okay, Cas,” Dean said, but his tone of voice said it was anything but.

Cas frowned but took a step back.  Sam was sitting up, shoulders rigid.

Lindsay ducked around the angel and rushed to Dean, throwing her arms around him. The hunter stood rigid, distress visible in his eyes.  He flicked a glance at Sam; _save me._  

Sam shrugged helplessly.  “What are you doing here, Lindsay?”

Lindsay’s reply was muffled by Dean’s shirt.  “Emma said she saw you at the morgue.  There aren’t many motels that fit your criteria, and the Impala doesn’t exactly blend in.  Are you here on a case?” She pulled back and looked accusingly up at Dean’s unhappy face.  “Why did you leave without talking to me?  Did I do something wrong?”

Dean finally snapped out of his paralysis and took a step back, forcing Lindsay to drop her arms. 

“You have to go,” he said.

Lindsay ignored him, turning to Cas and holding out a slim hand. “I’m Lindsay Roberts. Who are you?”

“Castiel,” the angel said, shaking her hand. 

Lindsay tilted her head, smiling up at him.  “Nice to meet you.  Pretty name! So you’re working with Sam and Dean?”

“Yes,” Castiel said.  He wished someone would tell him what was going on.  Distress was clear in the lines of both Winchesters, but this tiny woman didn’t seem capable of harming an insect, let alone any of the men in the room.

Lindsay turned back to Dean, stepping closer and laying a hand on his arm. “Let’s go get something to eat, Dean honey, what do you say?  Sam and…Castile, wasn’t it?  They won’t mind, will you boys?”  She shot an arch smile at them both over one slim shoulder and Cas took one quick step forward before stopping himself.  Dean was beginning to look panicky but still couldn’t seem to figure out what to say.

There was an unfamiliar feeling brewing in Castiel’s chest, something that burned hot and begged to be vented.

“ _Stop touching him_ ,” he growled, and even he didn’t recognize his voice, thick with simmering rage. “If you touch him again, _I will kill you.”_

Lindsay jerked her hand away, spinning to stare at the angel with hurt and shock written all over her pretty features.  They stood like that, a frozen tableau, until Sam stood and broke the silence.

“You need to go, Lindsay.  Now.” He took her by the arm and forcibly walked her to the door, ignoring her protests. 

“Don’t come back,” he told her after she was over the threshold, staring up at him with affront simmering in her eyes.  “Don’t call, don’t write.  Dean doesn’t want to see you.  Neither do I, for that matter. And I think we’ve established that you’re not Cas’s favorite person either.

“We’re here for a job and we’ll be gone in a week, God willing.  So just pretend we’re _not_ here and we’ll all be happy, okay?”

Lindsay opened her mouth to reply and Sam shut the door in her face.

Cas and Dean were staring silently at each other when he turned around. The tension thrummed thick in the air and Sam swallowed.

“Actually, I think I’m going to go to my room and, uh…look up some stuff on my laptop,” he said, glancing between the two men.

“Okay then,” he continued when neither looked at him.  He opened the door and peeked out, relieved to find that Lindsay was gone. “You two, uh…have fun – um, shit…I’m just gonna go.”

The door clicked shut behind him and Dean and Cas were alone.

Cas took a tentative step towards the hunter, whose shoulders suddenly slumped.

“Cas…” Dean’s voice was tentative and Castiel couldn’t stand it. He didn’t remember moving, but suddenly the hunter was in his arms, his forehead pressed against the angel’s shoulder.

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean whispered.  “What _was_ that?”

Castiel tightened his grip to just this side of pain, until Dean gasped.

“She should not have touched you,” the angel said.  “She was upsetting you, and it made me angry.”  He pulled back enough to meet Dean’s eyes. “I am sorry,” he said, his tone soft. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

Dean kissed him, mouth and hands urgent, pulling him in close as if he wanted to crawl inside the angel, set up camp and never leave.

They fell onto the bed in a sprawl of tangled limbs, hands roaming freely while Dean pushed Cas’s coat off the angel’s shoulders. 

“Too…many…mmf, _clothes_ ,” Dean growled, irritated, and Cas was suddenly overwhelmed with a tidal wave of love.

Dean was straddling him, elbows on either side of his head as he kissed him.

“I was…presumptuous,” Castiel gasped.  “I spoke out of turn, and I threatened a human who had done nothing wrong. All she did…” It was getting difficult to think with Dean’s mouth doing fascinating things against his skin.   “All she…did was…touch you. And yet I wanted…I wanted to… _kill_ her. I do not understand this.”

Dean lifted his head and smiled down at the angel.  “That right there?  That knot under your breastbone?”  He tapped Cas’s chest with a finger and then flattened his hand against the angel’s skin. “That’s called jealousy.” He dropped his head and began to lick and nibble his way down Castiel’s arm.

Cas squirmed. “Angels…ah, don’t get jealous.” It was getting progressively harder to think.

Dean snorted against Cas’s damp skin, making him writhe.  “Angels don’t usually take human lovers, either. So I can understand why you might not recognize the green-eyed monster when it bites you.”

Castiel frowned, confused.  “Are you referring to yourself?  You are the only person I know with green eyes.”

Dean outright laughed that time.  “I forget sometimes how literal you can be.  I was talking about jealousy.”  He lifted his head and his eyes were gleaming.  “Biting, however, can be arranged.”

Coherence fled and Castiel surrendered himself to his lover’s gentle hands.

 

An eternity later, Dean flopped onto his stomach and groaned.  “Jesus, I’m going to be sore tomorrow.  Where did you learn to do that thing with your tongue?”

Cas smiled at the ceiling, too comfortable to move.  “You.”

“Ah, right. That explains why you’re so good at it.” Dean opened one eye and grinned at his lover. 

A knock at the door startled them both.  Apprehension flickered across Dean’s face, but he stood and went to the window, peeking through the curtain at the door.  His shoulders relaxed and he turned to grab his boxers. “It’s Sam,” he told Cas.

The angel nodded and started pulling on his clothes.  Nudity didn’t bother him, but Sam certainly seemed not to like it.

Dean opened the door wearing a t-shirt and his boxers and Sam winced.

“There’s a vacant billboard out on Highway 83 that you could use if you want to tell the whole town you just had sex,” he jibed, but he pushed past the shorter man and set his laptop on the table, nodding at Cas.

Dean ruffled Sam’s hair.  “You knocked. You’re learning. I’m so _proud!_ ”

“I’m still scarred for life,” Sam muttered, knocking Dean’s hand away.

“Did you find something, Sam?” Castiel asked.

“I think so,” Sam said, relieved to change the subject.  “I’ve been looking into local lore and this fits all the criteria.”

Dean looked over his shoulder at the computer screen.  “Wait, are you serious?”  He straightened, irritated.  “Chupacabras are a myth, Sammy.”

“Yeah, well, we thought vampires were a myth too there for awhile,” Sam retorted.

Dean sighed. “This is ridiculous.” He flopped onto the bed next to Cas, curling his hand around the angel’s hip.

“What is a chupacabra?” Cas enquired.

“Not real,” Dean grunted.

“You don’t know that,” Sam said, voice patient.  “It fits, Dean.  All of it.”

“What _is_ it?” Cas asked again.

“Lore has it that it’s a monster ranging between the size of a large dog and a cougar. It drinks blood; drains its victims completely.  Wounds are neat – rarely any ripping or tearing at the site.”

“And how do we kill it?”

Sam shrugged. “Silver bullets, probably, but I’m still looking into that.  Tough part’s going to be finding it.  They’re sneaky little fuckers, despite their size.”

“Which means tromping through miles and miles of desert,” Dean groaned, rolling over and burying his face in Castiel’s thigh.  “Don’t wanna.”

“Pardon the hell out of me, Princess,” Sam snapped, “But I don’t give a shit whether you _want_ to or not. It needs to be done and I don’t see anyone else asking for the job.”

Dean sighed into Cas’s leg and the angel ran his fingers through his lover’s hair, scratching gently at Dean’s scalp.  The hunter hummed encouragingly, rubbing his cheek against Castiel’s thigh.

“Fine,” he eventually said.  “Where do you want to start?  And I want it on record that I am solidly in the Nay column on this bullshit.”

Sam turned his computer so the men on the bed could see it.  It showed a map of Laredo and Webb County. “I graphed out where the attacks started,” he said, eyes bright.  “This isn’t exact, but it’s pretty clear that the heaviest concentration is here,” he pointed to an area west of the city, “And I think if we go out there, we might find trace, like a paw print or _something,_ and we should be able to track it back to its den.”

“You are such a fucking nerd,” Dean said. 

Sam rolled his eyes.  “Get dressed. We’ll go get some lunch and then take a look around this afternoon.”

Dean sighed and rolled to his feet.  Despite his protests, he was ready to go almost immediately. “At least we don’t have to do this on empty stomachs,” he muttered, holding the door for Cas.

They never made it to the restaurant.  A searing flash of light was his only warning that something was wrong, and then darkness descended.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this one gets a little graphic with the torture. Not like, super amounts of gore or anything, but Lindsay is not a Nice Person.

Dean swam back to consciousness slowly and with great effort.  His head felt three sizes larger than usual and like it would shatter if he moved too quickly.  His arms wouldn’t obey his commands and neither would his legs.  He panicked briefly but fought the surge of fear back and assessed his situation.  He couldn’t move because he was tied to a chair, not because he was paralyzed and he was gagged but not blindfolded.

Dean pried one eye open, grimacing at the feel of eyelashes stuck together. He was in the middle of a large cave, facing the entrance.  What little he could see of the sky was dark blue, falling rapidly to night. The cave appeared to be empty except for him and a large duffel by the opening in the rock.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to think back.  What had happened between the motel and the restaurant? They’d been going for something to eat before searching for tracks, so how had he ended up here?

Pain lanced through his skull, making Dean moan into the gag. Nothing surfaced in his mind; there was still a frustrating blank spot between holding the door for Cas and waking up in the chair.  

 _Sam._ Dean straightened, craning his neck around him, struggling to see in all directions. Were they prisoners too? Dean didn’t sense anyone else in the cave; he seemed to be completely alone.  Which left two options: either his angel and his brother were coming for him, or they were dead.

Dean decided he was going for door number one and settled back to wait, testing his bonds against the metal frame of the chair without really expecting to get anywhere.

It wasn’t long before he heard noise outside and he sat up a little straighter.   He didn’t recognize the footsteps, but he was still entirely unprepared for Lindsay to walk into the cave.

Dean’s eyes bugged out and he made a muffled noise against the gag. _Lindsay?_ Lindsay _got the drop on him?_   It wasn’t possible.  Couldn’t be.

The petite woman smiled at him, pride in her posture and the way she tilted her head. “Hello, love,” she said.

Dean growled, glaring at her, and she tsked.  “That’s no way to greet me,” she said reprovingly, and wagged a finger at him. _Wagged a finger._

He was having an especially colorful acid trip, Dean decided.  The fact that he’d never dropped acid had no relevance at all.

Lindsay’s eyes tightened and she took two quick steps forward, gripping his jaw in a viselike grip.   “This is real,” she hissed, and the fury in her voice was frankly terrifying.  “You drove me to this, and you will listen carefully while I explain exactly what I expect from you.”

She let go of Dean’s jaw and he winced.  That was going to bruise.

He made a muffled noise and Lindsay smiled.  “I think you’re going to stay gagged until I’m done talking,” she said. “It ruins the line of that pretty mouth, but otherwise you’d have some smartass remark and I’d be forced to shut you up. And neither one of us would enjoy that. I don’t _like_ having to hurt you, Dean.”

Dean wished rivers of burning fire down upon her sleek blond head.  He called up armies of fire ants and scorpions and mentally hurled them all at the tiny woman standing in front of him.

He made a strangled interrogative noise. 

Lindsay arched an eyebrow.  “Are you asking how my day was, sweetheart?”

Dean glared.

“Oh I see,” Lindsay said, laughing.  “You want to know where your brother and that beautiful angel are. Don’t you?”

Dean was silent in his shock.  She couldn’t know that Cas was an angel.  She _couldn’t._   Unless…unless she’d somehow managed to overhear them talking.  She’d been in their room.  Had she planted a listening device, a bug of some sort?

Lindsay was watching his face as he worked through to the inevitable conclusion and now she clapped her hands.  “There it is!” she crowed.  “Oh, you clever boy, I knew you’d figure it out!  Yes, darling, I bugged your room.  You didn’t really buy that I was surprised to see you, did you?  When I was the one that brought you here in the first place?”

Dean frowned. That couldn’t be right. The _chupacabra_ was what had brought them here.  It was just a coincidence that it had struck outside Lindsay’s home…town…he closed his eyes and groaned inwardly at his own stupidity.

Of _course_ it wasn’t a coincidence.

“I wasn’t expecting the angel,” Lindsay admitted, unzipping the bag by the entrance and digging through it.  “But he was easily enough handled.  A few quick tweaks to my plan and everything was back on track.”

Dean strained against his bonds, rage and terror choking him.  _If she’d hurt Cas-_

Lindsay shot him a flirtatious smile over her shoulder.  “Getting you here was the hard part,” she said. “You’re heavier than you look! Thank God for four-wheelers, really.”

Dean slumped in the chair, sucking in air through his nose.  He’d never imagined it going this way.  Being held hostage by his ex-girlfriend?  Was this some cosmic payback for all the girls he’d left along the way?  Or was it his chastisement for daring to fall in love an angel?  Sam and Cas didn’t deserve to be punished for his stupid mistakes. He squeezed his eyes shut and began to pray.

A sharp slap startled his eyes open again, his cheek stinging. Lindsay stood over him, fury distorting her pretty features.  “Keep your eyes on me,” she snapped.  “And you don’t pray until I tell you to.”

Dean gritted his teeth around the filthy cloth, glaring daggers at the blonde woman. She waited until she was sure he was going to obey before she turned back to rummaging in the duffel bag, speaking over her shoulder to him.

“Do you remember anything about being taken?”

He shook his head silently.

“That’s too bad,” Lindsay said, pulling a fabric bundle out and setting it on the ground next to Dean’s chair.  “It was…masterful, if I do say so myself.” 

Dean quirked an eyebrow, conveying a world of doubt in one small movement.

Lindsay picked up a taser and waggled it.  “All it took was good timing and a few handy-dandy sigils.  Like I said, I didn’t account for the angel, but I took care of him anyway.”  She pretended to look concerned.  “I hope you didn’t have any unfinished business with him.”

Dean growled through the fabric, suddenly desperate to be able to speak.

Lindsay crossed to him and hesitated, slim fingers hovering near his cheek. “No one’s around for miles, but I’d still appreciate it if you didn’t scream, okay?”

Dean managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes, but it took effort. Dean Winchester did not _scream._

Lindsay frowned and then shrugged.  “I guess it won’t hurt if you talk.  I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and I don’t mind answering some of them, at any rate.” She tugged the knot loose and pulled the gag out of Dean’s mouth.

Dean coughed and spat, trying to rid himself of the foul taste of the cloth. “Did you soak that in motor oil for a week before you used it on me?” he finally said.

Lindsay blinked down at the rag.  “Oh….no, it was in the van.  I just grabbed it because it was handy.  Does it taste bad?”

Dean cleared his throat and spat again as noisily as he could, suppressing a surge of glee when she made a dainty moue and stepped back in distaste.

“Where did you send Cas?” Dean demanded.

“Who…oh, the angel?”

Dean narrowed his eyes.  He didn’t believe for a second that she didn’t know Cas’s name.

Lindsay smiled at him.  “I sent him back to Heaven, sweetheart,” she said gently, stepping forward and settling herself in Dean’s lap, hands linked behind his head.  He leaned back as much as he could while she wriggled, making herself comfortable. “You don’t need him anymore; you have me now.  So I sent him away. He won’t be gone long, but I don’t need much time to get ready.”

Questions buzzed under Dean’s skin.  Castiel had been cast out of Heaven, so he couldn’t be sent back there. Which meant it was anyone’s guess where he _had_ been sent. All Dean could do was hope and pray that the angel was all right and in one piece, wherever he’d ended up.

“What about Sam?” he rasped.  His throat was dry but he’d be damned before he asked this sadistic bitch for anything.

Lindsay noticed anyway, though, hopping up and pulling a thermos out of the bag. “It’s not drugged,” she said when Dean turned his head away.  “Look.” She took a long gulp and then held it back to Dean’s mouth.

Dean sighed and accepted this time.  The water was cold and clean and stung sliding down his throat and he drained the cup, hoping for more.

“That’s enough for now, I think,” Lindsay said.  She set the cup down beside the chair and laced her fingers behind Dean’s neck again. “What else did you want to ask me?”

“Sam,” Dean said, suddenly afraid to hear the answer.  “Where’s my brother?  Did you…”

“He’s fine, silly,” Lindsay said.  She settled herself more firmly on Dean’s lap and he set his jaw, aching with the need to tell her exactly he thought of her and having to keep it bottled up for Cas and Sammy’s sakes.

“When you came out of the motel room, the first thing I did was banish the angel. I don’t think he even saw me! There was a flash of light and he was just… _gone._ ”  There was awe in her voice.  “From there it was just a matter of hitting you both square on with the tasers and making sure no one saw me.”

“How did you get me all the way out here?” Dean asked.

“I rented a handicapped accessible van,” Lindsay said, and giggled.  “It was parked right outside your room.  You and Sam went down like felled oxen, and then it was just a matter of getting you both inside.  I dragged you onto the wheelchair lift and then rolled you into the van itself and tied you both up.  Easy-peasy.”

She sat back triumphantly, clearly expecting praise for her ingenuity.

Dean just stared at her.  “Where. Is. My. _Brother?”_

Lindsay blinked, taken aback.  “I left him in the van,” she said.  “He’ll be fine.”

Dean’s mouth fell open and he had to struggle to get hold of his temper and fear. “Lindsay.  You left him in a metal tube, with no shade or water, in _Texas in the summertime._ I don’t know how long I was out, but you may have already killed him, which means that I _will_ kill _you_ before this day is over.”

Lindsay stood up, fury on her porcelain features.  “You’re becoming tiresome, Dean,” she snapped.  “I brought you here so we could talk about our future together and instead all you can do is bang on about your stupid brother? Really, I expected more from you.”

Dean swallowed the terror that was choking him at the mental image of Sam lying helpless as the van heated up and killed him by slow, agonizing degrees. “Lindsay,” he said and his voice was suddenly pleading.  “Lindsay, _please._ I’ll do whatever you want.  I’ll go away with you. I’ll do _anything,_ just…please, _please_ get Sam out of that van."

The petite woman cocked her head, studying Dean’s face.  “If I get him out, then you’ll stay with me?”

Dean just nodded, stomping on the hope that surged in his chest.

“Fine,” Lindsay said abruptly.  “I’ll be back in a bit.  Stay put.” She undid the top two buttons of her shirt and licked her lips.  “When I come back, we’ll have some…fun.”

Dean swallowed back the nausea threatening to swamp him and concentrated on only letting his gratitude show.  “Thank you,” was all he said.

He waited until he heard the four-wheeler’s engine roar to life before he began struggling with his bonds.  _Son of a bitch._ She’d taken no chances with the knot.  The rope was slippery and he couldn’t get any traction on it.

 _First thing I’m doing when I get out of here,_ Dean promised himself, _is taking a two week course in recognizing various knots and how to untie the little fuckers._

His fingers slipped off the knot and he swore aloud.  Urgency was flooding his system and he knew logically that the adrenaline was making things that much worse, but nothing helped.

“Dean,” a rough voice said from behind him and Dean sagged in the chair, relief washing over him.

“ _Cas,_ ” he whispered. He craned his neck to see over his shoulder.

The angel looked disheveled, worry carving lines in his face.  He took two quick steps toward Dean and flames sprang up in a perfect circle around him, reaching for the stone ceiling, hungry and crackling.

Castiel’s mouth fell open and he turned in place, looking at his cage.

Despair knifed through Dean’s gut. 

And Lindsay stepped back into the cave and smiled brightly at both of them, cocking her head in a sickening parody of Castiel’s signature move.

Dean threw himself against his ropes, roaring wordlessly.  Lindsay just waited for his anger to burn itself out, crossing her arms and watching him exhaust himself. 

When he fell silent, panting for breath, Lindsay crouched in front of him, placing a small hand on his knee and looking solicitous.  “Really, darling, you’re going to hurt yourself if you keep that up.”

“Fuck you,” Dean whispered, his throat raw.

Lindsay dug her long fingernails into his leg until he gasped.  “Language,” she said, smiling.

Dean leaned forward and held her gaze.  “Fuck you, _bitch.”_

Lindsay’s pretty mouth tightened and she grabbed the fabric bundle that was on the floor next to his chair.  Dean barely had time to suck in a breath before she’d yanked a short knife out and sank it to the hilt in his upper thigh.

Dean’s world went fuzzy around the edges for a minute.  When he came back to himself, it was to Castiel bellowing frantically in Enochian and Lindsay smiling.

“You’ll keep a civil tongue when you speak to me,” she said gently.

Dean dragged in a desperate lungful of air, blocking out the pain from his leg as much as possible.

“Now, tell your pet to put a lid on it,” Lindsay continued.  “It’s hard to concentrate with him making such a racket.”

“Cas,” Dean whispered.  He couldn’t seem to make his voice work.

Lindsay clicked her tongue, exasperated, and hauled his chair around so that he was facing the upset angel.

Dean looked up and met Cas’s terrified eyes.  “It’s okay,” he managed.  “It’s…just a scratch.”

“It is _not_ a scratch,” Cas growled. “If she nicked your femoral artery, you could bleed out in minutes.”

“I didn’t,” Lindsay said, sounding indignant.  “I do know what I’m doing, you know.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re a very gifted torturer,” Cas snapped.  He still hadn’t taken his eyes off Dean, who had slipped sideways in his chair without remembering how he’d gotten there.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” Lindsay said, clearly feeling she’d lost control of the conversation.  “Dean and I are leaving this cave together.  You, however, are staying behind.  Forever, or as long as makes no difference.  If you make things more difficult for me, I’ll hurt Dean.  If you try to track us in any way, I’ll hurt Dean. If you do _anything_ to get in my way…well, you get the picture, I’m sure. When my puppy gets back from his evening feeding, then we’re leaving.  And you?  You are staying right where you are.”  She pointed to the bag by the entrance.  “I brought enough TNT to level a small town.  I’m going to seal this cave with you inside and you’ll never see your precious Dean again.”

“Your ‘puppy’?” Castiel asked.

“The ‘monster’ Sam and Dean have been hunting, dumbass,” Lindsay snapped. “Did you think it was a coincidence that a creature began killing people in _my_ hometown, of all places?  I knew he’d bring the Winchesters back here.  So I used him to draw them in.”

There was a scuff of a paw against rock at the cave entrance and Dean looked up, apprehension churning his stomach.  The sight that greeted him made his mouth dry out and he swallowed hard, trying to hide his fear.

The “puppy” was huge; whipcord muscle and dark grey hairless skin stretched taut over its wiry frame.  It resembled a dog in the way that a mountain lion resembles a housecat; clearly related but infinitely more deadly.

Its eyes were yellow and gleamed in the dim light.  Dean did a few quick calculations in his head. It had to be close to three hundred pounds, and it looked hungry.  Dean kept his breathing even as it slunk closer and sniffed him all over.

“Down, Fido,” he murmured.  “I don’t taste very good.”  It lifted a lip and snarled at him.

Lindsay laughed.  “He won’t eat you, Dean. He knows better. I’d let him take your stupid _boyfriend_ , but I’m not going to risk tampering with the only thing keeping that angel from snapping my neck.”

Dean shrugged a shoulder.  “Can’t blame a guy for wishful thinking.”

Lindsay’s mouth tightened and she slapped the hunter across the face hard, twice. Dean rocked with the blows, working his jaw afterward.

“Good thing you don’t wear jewelry,” he said, wincing.

Lindsay flicked a finger at the chupacabra, which turned and bounded out of the cave without a sound.

“And what will you do with Dean, the day you tire of him and wish to toss him aside like yesterday’s news?” Castiel interrupted.  His voice was calm on the surface but Dean could feel the bleed-through of tension.  See it, too, in the tightly clenched fists and the set of the angel’s shoulders, and the way his dark blue eyes never left Lindsay’s face. 

Lindsay smiled at him.  “That’s none of your business, but it won’t happen.  Dean and I are meant to be together and we will be.  I’ll never ‘toss him aside’.”

“You don’t deserve him,” Castiel said.  “You never did. You will never have his heart, no matter what you do.”

The tiny blonde’s face contorted with fury and she jerked a second knife out of the bundle and drove it into Dean’s other thigh with a snarl.

The scream ripped out of Dean’s throat of its own volition and Cas clutched his head, raging at his helplessness. 

“Dean?” Cas said.  “Dean, look at me. Dean, _please._ ”

His angel sounded wrecked, Dean thought fuzzily.  His angel should never sound like that.  It was a bad sound.  "S’okay, Cas,” he slurred. “…love you, baby. ‘M’okay.”

Lindsay grabbed Dean’s chin and yanked his head around.  “No,” she hissed.  “You _don’t_ love him. You love _me. I will_ make _you love me.”_   He felt the prick of a needle in his upper arm and his eyes slid closed like they were weighted down. He was distantly aware that he was losing a fair amount of blood and his body was going into shock, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Cas sounded like he was several miles away, screaming Dean’s name at the top of his lungs.

What happened next occurred in a series of still frames, as if Dean was flicking through photographs after the fact.

Lindsay straightening and turning, her blonde hair flying out in a nimbus around her head, an expression of shock and disbelief on her face.

_~flick~_

Cas on his knees, mouth open, terror and burgeoning loss blooming on his face, the arms of his coat on fire.

_~flick~_

Sam. Blood on his face, murder in his eyes, blocking out the setting sun from the entrance of the cave.

_~flick~_

Blackness.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean woke to sunlight on his face, his head in Castiel’s lap and Cas’s hands in his hair.  He blinked, taking stock. There was a foul taste in his mouth and his limbs felt oddly heavy, but there was no pain.  He stretched experimentally and Cas stiffened, leaning over him.

“Are you awake?  Dean, can you talk?”

Dean reached up and touched his angel’s face.  His finger came away wet.  “Cas?” His voice sounded rusty and unused. “Why are you crying?”

Castiel choked on a sob and folded himself forward, resting his forehead on Dean’s chest. Dean touched the angel’s head, not knowing what he was comforting him for.

“What happened, Cas?” he asked.  “Did we win? Where’s Sam?”

“I’m here,” Sam said. 

Dean patted Castiel’s hand and began to push himself to a sitting position. He was in a motel that seemed more upscale than their usual choices, he realized.  Sam was sitting next to the bed, his eyes anxious.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Dean thought about it.  “Like I went on a three day bender, but without the fun memories to go with.  What the hell _happened?_ ”

Sam pushed his hair out of his eyes.  “Long story short? Your psycho ex was even more psycho than we realized.”

Castiel’s hand was on Dean’s back, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. Dean relaxed into it, sighing with relief.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Castiel asked.  He scooted to the side so that Dean could lie down facing Sam, the angel’s warmth pressed up against his back.

“Um…we were in the cave…and she said she was taking me away and leaving Cas there. It gets a little foggy after that.” He jerked his head up. “Did she really leave you in the van? I thought you were dead, man.”

“Yeah, she left me in the van.  With a toolbox, the stupid bitch.  I was out of there in less than ten minutes.  Then it was just a matter of following her tracks.  I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“There was blood on your face,” Dean said, remembering a flash of memory. “What happened?”

Sam shrugged. “I found our monster outside the cave. We had a difference of opinion about who should walk away.  I won.”

“Nice,” Dean said. Castiel’s fingers were finding every sore muscle and loosening the knots within.  “So Lindsay was behind this whole thing?”

“Looks like,” Sam said, stifling a yawn.  “Credit where it’s due, apparently you’re irresistible to the ladies. She kept a diary. It was in the van. She couldn’t get over you leaving and it took her awhile but she figured out how to get you back here. From what I can gather, she went south of the border to talk to some witches and that’s how she got the chupacabra. I’m still sketchy on the details, but it seems she was planning on trapping Cas in that ring of fire and blowing up the cave behind her so that no one would find him.  Then I guess you and she would have just disappeared into the night.”

Dean snorted. “’Cuz I would have gone that easily, I’m sure.”  He grunted as Cas’s fingers found a stubborn knot and dispersed it. 

Sam looked up.  “Are you sure you should be doing that, Cas?  Your hands…”

Dean glanced over his shoulder and caught the tail end of a glare directed at Sam before Cas jerked his hands out of sight behind his back.  Dean scrambled upright.  “What’s wrong with your hands, Cas?”

“Nothing,” the angel said, his chin lifted stubbornly.

“Cas,” Dean said, warning clear in his voice.  “Let. Me. See.”

Castiel sighed and dropped his hands in his lap.  Dean sucked in a horrified breath.  The angel’s fingers and palms were blistered, raw in places and seeping clear fluid in others. 

“Holy fire,” Cas said, not fighting when Dean took one hand.  “I cannot heal it like I did your knife wounds.”

“You _idiot_ ,” Dean said, swallowing the lump in his throat.  “What were you thinking?”

Cas looked up, into his eyes.  “I was thinking you were in pain and I needed to save you.”

Dean pressed his forehead against the angel’s.  “Not at the expense of yourself, dammit.  And why aren’t these bandaged?”

Sam cleared his throat and tossed a first-aid kit on the bed.  “He wouldn’t let me touch him.  Said there’d be time once we knew you were okay.”

Dean picked up the kit and glared at the angel.  “Hold your hand out right now.”

Cas obeyed meekly and Dean got to work, muttering under his breath.

“So you can’t heal your hands?” he asked once the first hand was wrapped and he’d moved to the second.

Cas shook his head.  “Even if I had the strength, holy fire causes harm that angelic abilities cannot combat. But as it was, I used up what I had in healing your injuries and Sam’s, which had caused much more damage. I was able to clear most of the sedative out of your system, but not all, which is why you slept so long. But your legs are fine now.”

Dean finished wrapping the angel’s other hand, bringing it up to his mouth for a gentle kiss across the knuckles before setting it back in his lap and turning to Sam. “So what happened to Lindsay?”

“Cas and I figured it was fitting for her to end up buried where she’d planned to bury him, so I dumped the chupa’s body in there with her and set off the dynamite she’d brought with her.  It caused a lovely little cave-in and I doubt anyone will find her for a good fifty years or more.”

“She was dead when you caved it in, right?” Dean asked. 

Sam met his eyes.  “Yes. She was already dead.”

Dean nodded. “Good.  That’s…good.”  He glanced around the room.  “Where are we now?”

“Well, we took the van back to the motel and gathered our stuff while you snored in the backseat of the Impala and then we got the hell out of Dodge.”

“I thought we were in Laredo?” Cas said.

Sam snorted a laugh.  “It’s an expression, dude. Anyway, we’re just south of the Oklahoma border right now.  We hauled ass out of there.  And I figured you’d appreciate waking up in something less than a dump, so we splurged on a hotel.”

“Good thinking, little brother,” Dean said.  He glanced around appreciatively.  “Ooh, is that a minibar?”  He stood up and swayed a little, both Sam and Cas reaching for him.  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, waving them away and making for the mahogany cabinet in the corner of the room.

He downed half the small bottle of whisky and sighed happily.  “ _That’s_ what I’m talking about.”

Sam arched an eyebrow and stood.  “I think that’s my cue to leave.  You two…have fun, or whatever.”

“Sammy,” Dean said.

The taller man turned back and Dean reached up, grabbing him by the back of the neck and pulling him down into a hug.  “Thanks for saving my ass, little brother,” he said.

Sam huffed a laugh.  “I’m pretty good at it by now, I like to think.”

“Yeah well, I owe you one.”

“Dude, you owe me so many by now that I’ve lost track.”  Sam pulled away and grinned down at his brother. “I’m gonna go grab something to eat and crash for awhile.  I’ll catch you guys later.”

Dean watched the door close behind him and sighed, finishing the tiny bottle of alcohol in one swift gulp.  Cas stirred on the bed, shifting position but staying silent.  Dean’s shoulders sagged as he tossed the bottle in the trash, but still he didn’t turn towards the angel.

Cas waited. Something was bothering the hunter; that much was obvious.

“Dean?” he said, voice tentative.

Dean didn’t respond, so Cas stood up and crossed the room, stepping around in front of him.  His heart clenched at the sight of the tears on the hunter’s face.

“Dean, what is it?” he asked, reaching for him.

Dean pulled away, swiping at his face with a sleeve.  “Nothing.  I’m fine. Just…it’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly not ‘nothing’,” Castiel said.  “Talk to me.  _Please._ ”

Dean sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, hands dangling between his thighs. Cas sank to his knees on the floor in front of him, not touching but close enough that he could feel Dean’s warmth.

There was silence for a few long moments, Dean studying his own hands as if they held the secrets to the universe.  Cas waited, saying nothing.

“Where did you go?” Dean finally asked.  “When she banished you, outside the motel.   You’re barred from Heaven, so where did you end up?”

A flicker of pain crossed Castiel’s face and Dean could have kicked himself. _Reminding the angel that his home is forever out of reach, nice move, Winchester._

But Castiel simply said, “Pennsylvania.”

Dean blinked. “Wait…what?”

“Specifically, the house where you and Sam were trapped by the werewolves. That’s where I was sent. For whatever reason, I ended up in the last place I…zapped to.  It only took me a few minutes to get back to Texas and find you, but she’d put angel wards up on the van, so I couldn’t do anything until she’d moved you to the cave. I didn’t…foresee the trap. I should have, but I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“Because of me,” Dean whispered.  “Cas…this has to stop.”

Cas tilted his head, confused.  “What has to stop? Would you rather I’d not come after you?”

“If it meant you healthy and not in danger, _yes,_ ” Dean snapped.  “Look at your hands. _I_ did that.  Me. It’s my fault and I can’t stop thinking about it.  Why don’t you blame me? Why aren’t you angry with me? _I’m_ angry with me!  God, I hate myself, _why don’t you?”_

“Oh Dean,” Cas breathed.  He shuffled forward until he was between the hunter’s knees and Dean was forced to meet his eyes. “You stupid, stupid man.”

Dean reared back, affronted, and Cas couldn’t help his laughter.  He quickly sobered though, reaching up to cradle the hunter’s face in his bandaged hands.

“You are the best thing to ever happen to me,” he whispered.  “And honestly, I can’t blame Lindsay.  Perhaps she was unbalanced, but being unable to let you go? That I can understand completely.”

“If you stay with me, you’ll just get hurt more,” Dean said, his voice thick and unsteady.

“ _If?_ ” Castiel said. “There is no ‘if’. I will never leave you. Of that you can be certain.”

“What if I wanted you to?” Dean challenged.

Castiel met his eyes.  “You don’t.”

Dean covered his face with shaking hands.  “God help me, I don’t.  But I’ll never forgive myself for letting you get hurt.”

Cas stood up abruptly.   He’d had enough of the self-flagellation.  He shed his coat as Dean stared up at him with startled eyes.

“Cas…?” he said tentatively.

“Don’t speak,” Castiel said, unbuttoning his shirt.  “It seems you need reminding on a few points.”

Dean licked his lips but stayed silent, watching the angel’s hands.

“Take your shirt off,” Castiel said, and Dean obeyed instantly, dragging it off over his head and making his hair stand on end.  He reached for his jeans but the angel stopped him. “ _Just_ your shirt.  And lie down on the bed.”

Dean swallowed hard and crawled to the middle of the bed, lying on his back where he could watch Castiel as he stripped.

When he was naked, the angel got on the bed, straddling Dean’s hips. He was already half-hard, cock slowly filling, but he slapped Dean’s hand away when the hunter reached for him.

“No touching. I said you need reminding, and you do. So you will lie here, and you will let me do what I need to do.”

Dean had forgotten how his vocal cords worked.  He lay back, the solid weight of his angel anchoring him and keeping him grounded, and closed his eyes.

Castiel leaned down and Dean’s eyes flew open as warm, wet lips closed over his nipple and sucked hard, once, and then a tongue swirled across the nub, working it into a stiff peak.  The hunter’s hips bucked before he could stop himself, but he stayed silent.

“Good,” Castiel murmured against his wet skin.  “That’s good.  Now listen to me.” He began to work his way across Dean’s chest, kissing and nibbling a wet line that seemed to be connected directly to the hunter’s groin.

Dean writhed, clutching at Cas’s head, panting for breath.

“You,” a kiss, “Belong,” swift lick, “To _me,_ ” a nip of teeth that made Dean gasp brokenly, “And you would do well,” a long wet stripe up the hunter’s neck, “ _To remember that_.” His mouth closed over Dean’s, a bruising, punishing kiss that laid claim, taking and owning and _possessing._

Dean accepted him, welcomed him in, moaning into his touch and willingly surrendering control.

Castiel lifted his head and stared down into his lover’s eyes.  They were blown so wide with desire that the green was almost obliterated.

“Cas,” he whispered. 

The angel lifted an eyebrow.  “I didn’t say you could speak.”  He swung his leg over and stood up and Dean had to suppress a moan. But Cas wasn’t going far. He unbuttoned Dean’s pants and dragged them down over his hips.  Dean’s cock was fully hard, flushed and leaking where it rested against his stomach.

The hunter made no effort to touch it though and Castiel smiled at him before he turned to dig through the bag at the end of the bed.

When he came up with the lube triumphantly clutched in one hand, Dean sucked in a lungful of air but still he said nothing.

Cas climbed back on the bed and kissed him slow and deep.  “So good,” he murmured, tongue stroking and teasing. “So beautiful.”

Dean shivered, clenching his fists in an effort to keep from touching himself or Cas, and the angel rewarded him with another long kiss.

Then he looked down with dismay at the bottle he held in one bandaged hand. How was he supposed to prepare Dean when his hands were covered in gauze? 

Dean solved his dilemma by sitting up and taking the lube from him. “You should watch,” he said, kissing the angel’s shoulder.  “Make sure I’m doing it right.”  His eyes glinted as he lay back down and Cas had to stifle a laugh.  As if Dean didn’t know how to do this blindfolded by now…

Still, he settled on his knees between the hunter’s legs and immediately found himself swallowing hard as one of Dean’s long fingers probed at his own entrance and then slipped inside.  Dean’s head fell back, exposing the long, lovely line of his neck, and he began to slide his finger in and out in slow, smooth thrusts.

Cas’s dick ached and he shifted positions, longing to touch it but unwilling for this to be over too soon.

Dean added a finger and whimpered a little, his movements not losing their rhythm, eyes closed and brow furrowed in concentration.

Cas bit down on his thumb, hoping the pain would center him.  He’d never seen anything as gorgeous as his lover writhing in front of him, impaled on his own fingers.  The desire welling within him threatened to choke him, but he throttled it back by sheer force of will.

Dean opened his eyes and met Castiel’s heated gaze.  He pulled his hand free, holding the angel’s dark blue eyes, and Cas swallowed hard, unable to wait any longer. 

“Roll over,” he commanded, and his voice was rough, shaking with desire.

Dean obeyed instantly, his face buried in the pillows and legs spread wide. He looked obscenely beautiful, splayed open and waiting.  Castiel smoothed his hand across the silken skin at the base of Dean’s hips, smiling when the hunter quivered under his touch. 

“Let me be clear,” Cas said, lining up his cock with Dean’s entrance. “I regret _nothing_ about our relationship, unless it is that we didn’t do this sooner. You would do well to remember that.”

And he slid home with one powerful thrust.  Dean bucked and cried out, every muscle tensing with the pleasure that rocketed through his nerves.

Cas waited for his breathing to slow, buried deep inside his lover, fighting the urge to _move_.  Instead he rocked his hips, rewarded by the strangled moan Dean made, and pulled back a scant centimeter before closing the gap again.

Dean was trembling, his entire body setting up fine tremors.  Cas spread his hands across the hunter’s ribs, soothing him like he would a frightened animal.  His wings flared out behind him, counterbalancing him as he steadied himself.

He set an easy rhythm at first, a slow sweet glide that had them both gasping before long, but then he began to pick up the pace, punching the air out of Dean’s lungs and getting a deep, pleasure soaked groan from the hunter with each snap of his hips.

Cas wanted to make it last, wanted to draw this moment out until they were both dripping with sweat and exhausted, but all too soon he felt heat coiling in the pit of his belly and his movements became erratic.  Dean pushed back against him, rutting into the mattress and encouraging him wordlessly, and the angel folded forward, pressing his forehead against Dean’s shoulder as his orgasm roared through him. He braced himself on his elbows and spilled deep inside Dean, leaving him trembling and wrung out, gasping for breath. Dimly he could feel Dean arching against him and crying out as aftershocks shuddered through both of them.

It was several long minutes before either could move, Cas bonelessly sprawled over Dean’s sturdy frame.  Finally the angel pulled himself away with a grunt, settling down on his side and pulling Dean against him.

“ _Mine_ ,” Castiel whispered.

Dean’s finger traced intricate patterns through the sweat on the angel’s arm. “Yours,” he echoed, voice thick and slurred with pleasure.  “Always.”

 

EPILOGUE

 

Dean floated back to consciousness on a sea of endorphins, his mind sated and hazy. He stretched, smiling, and Cas stirred against him, murmuring in his sleep.  Dean tightened his arm around the angel and Cas sighed in contentment.

A knock on the door startled them both to full awareness and Dean sat up, reaching for his jeans.

“It’s just me,” Sam said, voice muffled.  “I ordered pizza.  If you guys want some, I’m in the room across the hall.” 

“You should eat,” Castiel murmured. 

Dean glanced down at him and smiled.  The angel was half buried in pillows, only one eye visible beneath the shock of tousled black hair.  Dean leaned down and kissed him. 

“Anything to get away from your snoring,” he teased.

Cas huffed a laugh and rolled over, stretching and sighing.  Dean admired the view for a few moments and then began pulling on clothes.

When they were dressed, they knocked on Sam’s door.

“Pizza’s on the table,” the lanky man said when he let them in.

Dean chortled and pushed past him, rubbing his hands.  “Did you get beer too?”

“What do you take me for?” Sam said, wounded.  “In the fridge.”

Dean flopped onto the couch with pizza in one hand and a beer bottle in the other, beckoning to Cas with his head.  “Get over here, you.”

Cas crossed to him and sat down and Dean immediately leaned up against him, using the angel as a backrest.  Cas draped a hand across the hunter’s chest and Dean sighed happily, wriggling until he was comfortable.

Sam just watched, an eyebrow raised.  “God help me,” he finally muttered.  “I really need to get laid, because that’s almost… _cute.”_

Dean snickered.  “I knew you’d come around eventually, Sammy,” he said, taking a huge bite of pizza.

“Whatever,” Sam said, rolling his eyes.  “So get this; I’ve been looking into Lindsay’s life.”

Dean stiffened.

“It’s okay, man,” Sam said hastily.  “No one can trace this back to us, I promise.  I just wanted to see if I could find out more about her.  Anyway, remember that dead chick in the morgue, the one Cas said was poisoned?”

“’Course,” Dean mumbled around his mouthful.

“I’m ninety-nine percent sure Lindsay did it,” Sam said.

Dean stared at him, forgetting to chew.

“Seriously, check this out.  The girl was Lindsay’s roommate for years.  But she and Lindsay were fighting a lot recently; police had been called for disturbances to their apartment several times.  Seems Melissa had found out about Lindsay stalking you and they were disagreeing over her obsessive behavior.  She wanted Lindsay to drop it and move on, Lindsay refused.  She threatened to warn you; this is all in her diary, by the way, and borne out by the police reports.  And that’s when our lovely local stalker decided that Melissa needed to be gotten out of the way, so she made nice, they went out for drinks and Lindsay poisoned her.  Spiked her drink.”

“Jesus,” Dean muttered.  Cas tightened his arm and Dean absently patted him.  “I’m okay,” he said.  “Just…a little unnerving to think how deep this went.  You did the world a favor, Sammy.”

Sam snorted a humorless laugh.  “Looks like. Anyway, I was thinking if you wanted, maybe we could swing down through Mexico, see if we could find those witches and clean out their nest.”

Dean glanced up at Cas, who nodded. 

“Sounds good to me, little brother,” Dean said.  “Let’s go to Mexico.  Maybe we can buy Cas a poncho!”

“Why would I need a poncho?” Cas inquired.  “It’s not cold and I don’t really care for bright colors anyway.”

Dean laughed, patting the angel’s arm.  “Don’t ever change, Cas.  Just…don’t ever change.”

 

The Impala’s engine roared to life and settled to a growling purr as Cas climbed into the backseat and Sam tossed their bags into the trunk.

Dean glanced over his shoulder.  “Ready to go tackle some witches?”

Cas smiled at him.  “As long as you’re with me, absolutely.”

Dean reached over the seat and took the angel’s hand.  “Always,” he said, his eyes serious.

Sam slid into the passenger’s seat and slammed the door.  “Enough mushy stuff, girls, let’s hit the road.”

Dean chuckled and put the Impala into gear, pulling out of the parking lot and heading south on the highway.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to everyone who has read and left kudos and comments. They make me so happy (which probably says something about my pathetic addiction to positive feedback). This final chapter was posted early for cobalt_wings, who always has wonderful things to say about my stuff that make me all fuzzy inside. (Have a good trip!)
> 
> Also, as ever, disheveledangelinatrenchcoat provided feedback and her mad beta skillz, and somehow she STILL hasn't lost patience with me! She really is an angel!


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